


The Games We Play

by midnightwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Not hunters, Penetration, Underage Sex, unrecreational use of household objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightwrites/pseuds/midnightwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was having a stressful day, so he decided to join Sammy in a little game of pool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Games We Play

Sam love the new pool table. His dad brought it home the other day for him and Dean, leaving the giant box in the garage before he left off to another hunt. Sam pulled on Dean's arm until he helped put the thing together in the basement, and once it was done, Sam rarely left the lower part of the house. He'd sprint upstairs to use the bathroom, and then slip back down to keep playing.

Dean would come back from his job at the garage to find Sam downstairs, working on is break. Dean had to admit that it wasn't a bad sight to see his brother bent over the edge of the table, jean clad backside pushed out as his still-too-short body stretched to hit the q-ball into stripes. Dean would help Sam with his shot, hand on his brothers lower back to guide him to the right spot. Dean didn't miss the way Sam arched his back into Dean's hand, breath hitching slightly every time Dean's hand slipped passed the small of his back to rest on the top of his buttocks.

 

Dean had a particularly shitty day at work. An angered business man whipped his car keys at Dean's head because his stupid Prius wasn't fixed in time for a trip to Reno, and Dean tried to explain that the transition was busted and the suspension on the car was jacked to hell (probably a bad tow-job) and it would take quite a bit for it to be fixed, but the man wouldn't have it. Mr. Singer had to come out and talk the man down from his temper tantrum, and Dean was let off early to cool down too. 

When he got home, he smiled as Sam craned his neck over the back of the couch to look at Dean as he entered the house.

"Hey Dean, how was work?" Sam asked. Dean rolled his eyes, tossing his keys on the couch next to Sam's body.

"Dude, crazy ass guy chucked his fucking keys at my head," Dean said, shrugging off his leather jacket. Sam shrugged.

"Oh, that sucks," Sam said as he stood, walking over to his brother. "I'm sorry, Dean," he said. He walked over to Dean and wrapped his arms around his big brothers torso. He nuzzled his head into Deans chest before giving him one last big swing and going towards the door to the basement. Dean groaned to himself and followed Sammy downstairs. It was time to get some of his tension out.

Sam was in his usual spot, bent over the table, shooting at a striped ball. Dean hummed in approval at Sam bent over and walked up behind his little bro. He let his hand drift across his brothers back side and listened to Sam groan. Sam turned around to stare at his brother.

"Dean..." Sam groaned.

"Keep playing," Dean commanded. Sam groaned and turned around, hands shaking on the the pool cue as he tried to shoot some more. His hand slipped and he missed the shot.

Dean was still behind Sam, watching his brother shake with anticipation. He loved it like this, watching his brother shake in excitement of what he knew was coming next. Dean placed himself behind Sam, reaching around to undo his baby brothers belt, pushing his jeans and boxers to the floor.

"Off," Dean commanded, smiling as his brother quickly kicked off the jeans wrapped around his ankles. He stood still, waiting for Dean to make a move. "Keep playing," Dean repeated. Sam whimpered and folded over, going on his tip toes to reach the q-ball.

Moving around to Sam's side, Dean reached over to the wall, grabbing a special cue that his dad had brought home for him. It was one of those cues that twisted in half so it was more portable. It was a nice feature, but Dean had other ideas for this cue.

He returned to his spot behind his little brother and tucked the half of the cue under his arm. He reached into his left pocket and brought out he lube he always kept there (never knew when you might need it, right?), snapping the lid off and squeezing a generous amount into the palm of his hand. He slicked up the pool cue, keeping it tucked under his arm for later use. With his lubed up hand, Dean traced in between Sam's cheeks, the globe of his ass moving as he walked slowly, trying to follow Dean's orders to keep playing the game. Dean slipped two fingers in his little brother, Sam no longer able to keep up his game of pool.

"Fuck, Dean!" Sam pushed back on his brother's two fingers, trying to get them as deep as possible. When he started to loosen up a bit, Dean removed his fingers. Sam made a low whining sound, turning his head to look at his big brother.

"Just wait a sec, Sammy," Dean said. He pulled the lubed up pool cue from under his arm. Sam's eyes widened and he whined deep in his throat. He groaned loudly, eyes rolling back in his head as Dean pushed the pool cue into his brother. He loved to watch Sam stretch around the finished wood of the cue, pushing back on it as if it was a life line. He keeps up his little noises, mewls and whimpers going straight to Dean's dick. He pushed the pool cue back and forth a few times, eyes trained on the way Sam was pushing back in time with his thrusts, his hole stretching to engulf the large cue.

"Fuck, Dean, please. J-just... Nnghh, I need..." Sam cut himself off with a high pitched mewl. Dean shuddered and removed the cue for a moment, before he yanked down his own jeans and replaced the cue with his own throbbing cock. Sam shouted out Deans name as his older brother fucked into him hard.

"Fuck, Sam, you're so goddam tight," Dean growled as he plundered back into his brothers vice. Dean gripped Sam'a hips hard, his cock swelling impossibly more at just how thin Sam was. His little brother, barely entering eighth grade. Dean groaned at his own thoughts, fucking up harder onto Sam, who had lost his ability to hold himself up, torso resting flat on the felt of the pool table.

"God, Dean, h-harder," Sam begged. Dean's thrusts were already rocking Sam's body forward, slamming him into the pool table. But Dean had to conform to his brother's needs, snapping his hips forward, pushing Sam flush against the table.

Sam groaned with every thrust, pushing back against Dean. He reached behind him and dug his nails into the back of Dean's thighs, keeping them flush together.

"Dammit, Sam," Dean gasped. He reached in front of him and wrapped his hand around sam's length. Sam groaned and fucked into Dean's hand. With three pumps, Sam was coming, his ropes of hot spunk painting the wood of the pool table.

The crush of Sam's hole around Dean was too much, and Dean followed his baby brother into climax. He panted as he came, suckling hickeys into the back of Sam's neck. When the wave of pleasure had died down, Dean pulled out of Sam, both of them groaning as over-sensitive skin was rubbed.

Dean pealed Sam off the edge of the pool table and turned him around so they were facing each other. He smiled at his brother's sated and fucked out expression before he leaned in for a loving kiss. Sam moaned lightly into Deans mouth and let Dean's tongue wander without complaint.

"We should probably get you washed up," Dean said after he had broken the kiss. Sam nodded with a half smile and moved to go pick up his jeans and boxers that were strewn on the concrete ground of the basement. Dean watched his brother waddle and smiled to himself. Sam stood at the foot of the basement stairs, looking at Dean.

"Well?" Sam asked, gesturing to the stairs.

Dean pulled his pants up and followed Sam up the stairs, towards the shower, watching Sam's ass sway. His Sam.

Dean could get used to that pool table


End file.
